


Al Diel Shala'thalas (Safe Travels Home)

by Tyrux



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: F/F, Family, Reunion, multiple POVs, sylvaina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-26 19:21:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21379225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyrux/pseuds/Tyrux
Summary: "You deserved more from me than a broken necklace and an empty promise."It is on Argus, after a thousand years, that Alleria is reacquainted with a changed world... and a changed family.
Relationships: Jaina Proudmoore/Sylvanas Windrunner
Comments: 11
Kudos: 139





	Al Diel Shala'thalas (Safe Travels Home)

Hunting on Argus was not entirely different from the forests of Quel'Thalas.

Of course, there _were_ differences. The earth, harsh and desolate. Molten felflame and steel spires took the place of gentle streams and woodland groves. The wind was more the endless churning of soul engine exhaust than anything vaguely resembling nature. Indeed, such a thing no longer had a place on Argus, corrupted by the Legion and eroded by the oppressive chill of the Twisting Nether as it was.

Nonetheless, as Alleria closed her eyes and let her arrow loose, burying itself in the skull of a felguard, she could almost pretend she was home. Leading her Farstriders in an ambush, the demon an Amani scout too slow and too inpercipient.

Her ears twitched at sudden movement, and with scarcely a whisper the Void engulfed her. The mo'arg didn't so much as glance at her former hiding place as the rift dispensed her atop a ridge sixty paces away. Alleria nocked another arrow and brought him crumbling to the ground in a single fluid motion, as natural as breathing.

Two left.

No, perhaps she could not pretend. The armies of the Burning Legion were not the forest trolls of Zul'Aman. The wasteland of Argus was not her radiant homeland. And, in many ways, she was no longer entirely alike the Alleria Windrunner that stepped through the Dark Portal all those years ago.

With a grimace, she turned her gaze skyward. The second Draenei vessel hovered on the horizon, cast across Azeroth beyond it. Who might be aboard that ship, leading the charge against the Legion? With luck, Khadgar, Kurdran, and Danath had found their way home. Her sisters would surely be here to defend their people from the Legion. That would mean Rhonin as well. Perhaps Sylvanas had finally carried on the family legacy - found a nice human girl to settle down with. _Belore_ knows she needed it, working herself to death as Ranger-General as she certainly would be. That Ranger Lord would be trailing after her at the least... Morrin? Merrick?

She wondered with growing horror if Arator was old enough to-

"_Gor'om haguul._ Your death will be a mercy, Shadow-spawn!"

Instinct took over as Alleria rolled to the side, then leapt over the horizontal slice of a greatsword poised to bisect her. With the flick of a wrist, unbound magic seared a hole through the attacking eredar's chest. In the time it took for him to slump forward she already had her bow raised, downing one, two, three-

No, that wasn't right. She was out of arrows.

Alleria heard her before she saw her, soft footfalls in the wake of two more demon's screams. Tilting her head to the left, blue eyes met blue for the first time in a thousand years.

A breathless whisper. "Little Moon?"

The felblood dripping down the side of Vereesa's face did nothing to hide her massive smile. "Lady Sun!"

With the lunge of a lynx, Vereesa crossed the distance and wrapped her arms around Alleria.

"_Anar'alah belore_, I have missed you," she murmured into her little sister's silvery hair, returning the hug without hesitation. "Words do not..."

A small, choked sob echoed through the air, and Alleria pulled her sister closer. "I thought you were gone. Words don't... words can't describe how happy I am to see you."

Alleria loosened her grip and rested her hands on Vereesa's shoulders. "I am here now. Though it would be nice to not have another war looming over our reunion."

Vereesa's gaze dropped to her feet before sucking in a breath, eyes wide. "You're injured! We need to get you back to the Vindicaar," she pressed.

"It is nothing, I must continue the search for Turaly-" Alleria protested, only to take note of the gaping, greatsword-shaped gash in her ankle. "Well. I suppose that will scar."

"There's a portal beacon due south of here, lean on- _Alleria!_ Don't you dare put any weight on that!"

Alleria silenced her admonishments with a wave, favoring her good leg as she raised the other hand in a gesture. "No need. Hold tightly, Little Moon, I've picked up some... new tricks, in my absence."

Vereesa nodded in acknowledgement, offering her support to Alleria's free arm. When the Void faded away the two sisters were safely sat in a gleaming passage within the draenei ship. Alleria immediately collapsed against the wall, gritting her teeth as she knelt down to survey the damage.

"Alleria," Vereesa began. "That was..."

"Yes. I am still myself. A reasonable chunk of my last thousand years has been spent learning to wield the Shadow." _the shadow, learning to wield you__._

She shook her head. "Conveniently, it is the only thing demons fear."

"I trust you," Vereesa reassured. "Your wound is more important, anyhow."

Alleria grimaced and began rising shakily to her feet. "I will need to treat this myself. The Light no longer... agrees with me. Then I must find Turalyon, before-"

Vereesa scoffed, offering her arm and beginning to lead the pair down a brightly lit hall. "What you need is _rest_. Khadgar's team will find him. There's medical supplies on-board, I'll tend to you. The death knights don't take well to our usual healing either."

Alleria held silent for several long moments, before hissing in anger she had thought long since forgotten. "The Horde is _here?_"

Vereesa looked almost puzzled for a moment, before realization dawned across her face. "...Yes. Though these are death knights of a different sort. You've been gone twenty four years, Alleria. Much has- did you say a thousand?"

"Time flows differently in the Nether. Arator..." _has grown up without us._

"Arator has always loved the both of you. He's on the field now - takes after his father, I'm afraid."

Alleria blinked, and suddenly she was sinking into a cot in an empty medical bay. "That's good. I don't think I could bear being surpassed in archery."

Vereesa chuckled even as she began fetching supplies. "Just wait until you see Sylv-"

All at once, Vereesa's constant grin faltered.

"Is she here? Sylvanas?"

Vereesa coughed, and made an attempt at smoothing her features. "I-"

Alleria's vision swam, and the murmurs of the Void rushed to fill the gaps - _something is wrong, something is wrong, you cannot trust, you cannot-_

Her eyes closed, and darkness claimed her.

* * *

A figure stepped lightly through the halls of the Vindicaar. Turning a bend, she caught sight of Turalyon and Arator leaving - the latter of whom smiled, while the other returned her stiff nod. All too soon, she found herself standing before a simple archway. No different than the hundreds of others littered across the vessel.

She lingered for only a moment before crossing the threshold.

Vereesa was there, an empty crate providing makeshift seating. And just beside her, a sleeping form.

"How is she?

Vereesa stretched, exhaustion fully apparent. "Recovering. The blade was poisoned - it's been extracted now. All she needs is rest."

"As do you. I can handle this."

"No, no, I'll-" she protested, words cut in two by a yawn. "I'll stay."

"We survived for many years without you, Little Moon. I am sure you can spare-"

"Sylvanas?" a voice rang out, interrupting the sisters bickering.

She exhaled, and finally turned to face her sister.

"Welcome back, Lady Sun. You're an aunt now."

Alleria's eyebrows raised just so, and Sylvanas pointed an accusatory finger towards Vereesa. "Did she not tell you? Giramar and Galadin. Two darling redhead sons, just like their fa-"

"I have matters to attend to," Vereesa cut in, rising suddenly. "I'll leave the two of you to catch up." She departed swiftly, ears glowing red against her pale skin.

"You haven't changed a bit Lady Moon," Alleria noted, turning back towards Sylvanas with a small smile.

"She's always been too easy. Moreso when it comes to sleep deprivation."

Silence hung in the air. "How have you been?" Alleria prodded.

"I haven't changed a bit," Sylvanas said with a grin she didn't feel. "You, on the other hand... a thousand years of demons and the Void, I hear."

"...That's the long and short of it."

Voices echoed from a distant chamber, the jostling of crates and weapons ringing through the pregnant silence.

"I wish we had more time," Alleria began. To just.. talk. Live. Reminisce. But Sargeras is out there, and until he is dealt with we will not know peace."

Sylvanas snorted. "Peace. Azeroth has not known it in some time, a Titan will be nothing new." She began raising fingers. "The Horde. The Legion. Two Old Gods. Deathwing, I hear you were acquainted. And- oh." She paused. "You wouldn't have met him."

"Met who?"

The name is more hissed than uttered.

"Arthas Menethil."

Alleria cocked her head. "Terenas has a son?"

Sylvanas sighed incredulously. "You _knew_ that."

"You must forgive me, Lady Moon. I've only been hunting demons for the last ten centuries."

"Well, it hardly matters now. They're dead."

Alleria frowned. "That's awful."

Sylvanas looked almost shocked for a moment, before chuckling darkly. "Yes. I suppose it must sound as such. This is a long story, Lady Sun, and to make it short the Legion's toy got away from it. Arthas killed his own father, donned the Helm of Domination, and as the Lich King led the Scourge in a war to annihilate life. A self-sustaining, endlessly growing undead army."

These wounds were old wounds. The past no longer held any sway. Nonetheless, Sylvanas took a deep breath before pressing on.

"Quel'Thalas nearly fell. The Scourge made it through two of the elfgates. Dalaran cut them off from the south, and we pinned them against _Ban'dinoriel_. If not for them, I..."

"I should have been there."

"We survived," Sylvanas responded simply, holding her emotions back from bleeding into her words. She stared at the floor. "You were doing what you had to. As we all have."

"No. Sylvanas, please look at me." Alleria's touch was cool as she grasped the blue gemstone hanging at her neck. "You deserved more from me than a broken necklace and an empty promise."

Silence hung for a long, deafening moment. Alleria spoke first, softly, slowly.

"Sometimes I wish I had never stepped through the portal. I wish I hadn't been so angry. I wish I hadn't been traipsing about the cosmos hunting demons while you defended our people. I wish I hadn't rejected the role of Ranger-General. I... I wish I did not abandon you. I'm sorry."

For the first time in a thousand years, blue eyes met _blue eyes,_ brimming with tears.

Sylvanas cried. Sobbed, really. Like she never had before - not for Lirath, not for her mother, not for Alleria in all the years she'd thought her dead. It was horrible, and ugly, and entirely unbefitting of the Ranger-General of Quel'Thalas. She was supposed to be the strong one. The calm within the storm. The wall, the bulwark, the rock. This was not her role.

Yet as Alleria wrapped her arms around her, she knew nothing else had ever been so freeing.

"Ssh. _Elu'meniel mal alann._"

Sylvanas sniffed, and rubbed at her face. Disgusting. She cleared her throat, trying to find words once, twice, before finally...

"I'm alright," she murmured, scarcely even a whisper. "You're here now, and that is what matters."

Sylvanas pulled back, and the two sat there for a long while. Just... enjoying each other's company. Usually one of them would be skinning, or fletching, or tending to a fire, but she supposed it was alright to simply _be, _for once.

Alleria _hmmed_ softly, and Sylvanas pricked up, glancing in her direction.

"What is it?"

"Vereesa was going to say something earlier. About you, I would guess. But you're here, so I cannot imagine why-"

Both their attentions were caught by the quick and noisy footsteps of a human approaching, just nearly shrouding the lighter gait of an elf in their wake.

"Sylvanas, the Lightforged are asking after your scouting repo-" a familiar voice called out, pausing just within the room. Sylvanas gave her a small smile, quickly returned. Jaina continued inside, eyes widening somewhat as she took in the rest of the chamber. "Lady Windrunner! It's an honor to finally meet you."

She waved a hand dismissively. "Please, just Alleria. I haven't gone by any titles in quite some time. It's a pleasure, Lady..."

"Jaina Proudmoore. Or, just uh, Jaina. As well."

"Kul Tiras. I imagine this isn't the sort of ship you're used to."

Vereesa stepped out from behind her into the room, and Sylvanas spared her a suspicion-ridden squint before turning her attention back to the present conversation.

"No, not exactly. Though I haven't been home in some time-"

"Jaina," Sylvanas began, standing up to rest a hand on her shoulder, "has been quite busy. Maintaining worldwide peace, vanquishing evil as the most powerful mage alive, ruling Dalaran on the Council of Six, being an amazing wife... it all seems quite tiring, really. I don't know how you manage it, dear."

Jaina, to her credit, made a good show of sputtering in shock before hissing through her teeth, _"Sylvanas!"_

Alleria simply nodded sagely. "Oh. I win, then."

Vereesa froze, one foot out the door. "Of all the things you could remember..."

Sylvanas raised an incredulous eyebrow. "You two made _bets_ on my love life?"

"Well, they're certainly your sisters," Jaina said with a barely contained chuckle. But her face was as red as a tomato, so clearly Sylvanas was still in control of the situation.

"Vereesa thought you were going to end up with Kael'thas." Alleria monotoned with the highest degrees of sincerity.

At this, Vereesa choked, puffing out her chest like a particularly angry songbird. "I was _eight_, you can hardly hold me to that! And I... didn't exactly have the best opinion of humans."

"Not only do you admit your distaste for humanity, but you attempt to rescind a sworn oath. How far have you fallen in my absence, Little Moon?"

Sylvanas grinned even as Vereesa sighed in defeat. "To think it took a thousand years for you to develop a sense of humor. It's good to know I finally rubbed off on you. Regardless, Kael'thas is dead, so the point is moot."

"Truly?"

She turned back to Alleria. "Our dear prince fell in Northrend years ago. Very tragic, very heroic. They wanted to make me Regent-Lord, you know."

"What about Anasterian?"

"Scourge. Who do you think Kael'thas was out to avenge? Really, you'll never keep up in Quel'Thalas like this, Lady Sun."

"Well, did you do it?"

"No, of course not. I gave it to Lor'themar."

"And what did he say?"

"Yes."

Alleria relented to a wry chuckle, but then Vereesa giggled, Jaina tried to look morbidly horrified before joining in, and before Sylvanas knew it they were all laughing, as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

It felt good.

It felt like home.

* * *

_One Year Later_

"Mmph."

Jaina rolled over groggily, grasping at the soft mass at her side. It continued to ignore her.

Blearily opening her eyes, she was greeted only by pillows and the marble walls of Windrunner Spire. She stood and began to dress herself, arcane magic fluttering freely through the chamber. She yawned, inhaling warm summer air - always _warm_ in Quel'Thalas, seasons be damned. Nothing like their cabin, or the suite in Dalaran. She gave herself one final glance over, before weaving her fingers into a simple conjuration spell. With a satisfied hum, she took her deliciously oversweetened mana bun and stepped outside.

Laughter was echoing from the fields below the bedroom balcony. Each of them had their lives and duties to tend to, but it was good to meet up like this. To just let everything go, and live.

Turalyon sighed in defeat as Giramar knocked a wooden training sword out of his grip, Arator looking on with a smile. Rhonin chuckled in horror as Galadin caused every flower in a twenty-foot radius to glow violently and shoot three feet into the air. Alleria held her bow, brow knit in concentration as Vereesa smugly whooped at another bullseye embedded in the bark of a tree.

And only just in front of her, Sylvanas Windrunner, Ranger-General of Silvermoon, looking down at them all. Smiling as though she were the happiest woman in the world. A small child was swaddled in her arms, tiny eyes shut as she dozed peacefully. Her daughter. _Their daughter._ The words rolled through her mind again and again, alien yet oppressively, almost unbearably beautiful.

"Sylvanas?" she questioned, taking a place at the rail next to her. "What are you thinking?"

"I am thinking..." and she paused, leaning just enough to plant a soft kiss on her wife's cheek. "It is good to be home."

**Author's Note:**

> canon is kill
> 
> I've been delving deep into Sylvaina fics the last couple weeks, and I figured I'd throw my hat into the ring. First time writing for Warcraft, so any and all feedback is much appreciated. Thank you for reading!


End file.
